


Touch My Body

by tryslora



Series: Daddy's Little Girl [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Dubious Consent, Gags, Magical Artifacts, Multi, Technology, Tentacles, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville just wants a little peace and quiet while he works. Is it his fault that something needs to be done to distract Draco and Lily Luna, just until he finishes up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch My Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Podfic] Daddy's Little Girl: a series by tryslora](https://archiveofourown.org/works/590486) by [teas_me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teas_me/pseuds/teas_me). 



> This was written for the "mechanical/technological" prompt at kink_bingo. Also, JK Rowling owns the world and characters of Harry Potter; I'm just playing with them.

This isn’t exactly how Draco expected to find Neville using his brand new holiday gifts.

As much as Neville likes to have his hands in the dirt, sometimes there is more work than one man could do. And while students can help, on occasion, some things simply need to remain under control of the master herbologist. Thus, for Christmas Draco had purchased an extra pair of magical hands to help Neville with the planting. While Neville himself would need to transplant the seedlings, the hands can dig for him down to a specified depth, turning over the soil and breaking up clods as they went.

But this hand… this hand has one finger deep inside of Lily Luna as she moans, her hands trapped high above her head, wrapped to the trunk of a tree by a honeysuckle vine that drips sticky sweet fluid over her bare breasts. Draco can’t see her robes anywhere nearby; Lily Luna has apparently been stripped.

Neville, however, is on his knees, hands in the dirt while the other magical hand digs by his side. He glances up when Draco comes in and comments mildly, “I said I didn’t wish to be disturbed today.”

“I thought I’d stop by and see how the new hands were working out.” Draco glances at Lily Luna, a whimper catching his attention. Her hips jerk, and the vines around her thighs tighten, holding her in place. “I don’t think that was quite the intended application.”

Neville gestures and a bit of honeysuckle winds around Lily’s breast, a flower teasing, suckling at her nipple. Her head twists to one side as she arches against the touch, breast glistening with the sticky fluid. “I was interrupted,” he points out. “It’s helping me keep her distracted so she’s not distracting me.”

Draco crouches down next to Neville, looking at the plants he has laid out next to where he digs. They are small, with tiny blue flowers like bells, ringing faintly if he listens closely. “I’m certain she doesn’t want you to work too hard.”

In the background, Lily whimpers, and Draco takes that as agreement. There is a low gasp, and when he turns, he sees a vine slithering up inside of her, stroking her deeply.

His cock rises, thickening uncomfortably within his trousers.

“These need to be in the ground by tonight or else there’s no point at all to it,” Neville says firmly. “And it seems you’ll need to be distracted as well.”

Something winds around Draco’s feet and abruptly he is yanked backwards. His hands are grabbed and pulled until he is spreadeagled against a tree on the opposite side of the garden from where Lily Luna is bound. He can see her clearly, and can see Neville as well, working quietly between them.

Draco hears the soft murmur, whispered words that aren’t quite audible, but he knows what the spell was when his clothing disappears. He is starkers, the bark of the tree rough against his back. Flowers tickle as honeysuckle twines around him, holding him firmly in place. “Neville—”

He starts to speak, and a vine slips over his mouth, gagging him so he can’t make a noise. He can see Neville’s small smile, and knows that Neville, as usual, is completely in control here.

There is nothing Draco can do but give himself up to whatever his lover has in mind.

Something slithers around his balls, tugging tight, binding them before another tendril slips around the base of his prick to tighten there as well. Draco is hard and aching to be touched.

When that touch finally comes, it feels like a cold finger drawing down the underside of his cock, teasing the slit when it reaches the end. Draco looks down and sees the second of the magical hands there, touching him carefully as if learning what it can and cannot do.

This is definitely _not_ how Draco meant it to be used.

The skin of the hand is smooth and cold, somewhat metallic. When it wraps around his prick, it holds on a shade too tightly, the friction to much on the first stroke. His whimper is half pain, half pleasure and the hand stops. The vine creeps down the length of his prick, the tiny flowers nipping and nibbling at the skin. They suckle, leaving behind small red marks and their viscous fluid, coating Draco’s prick in wet warmth.

There is a sweet smell in the air mixing with the scent of Lily Luna’s arousal. Draco’s nostrils flare, his hips rolling as best they can while he is bound. The hand obliges, cold and solid but sliding easily now with the honey that coats his prick.

It feels impersonal.

But it also feels _good_.

The vine continues to move over Draco’s body in stark contrast to the touch of the hand. Where the hand is cold and solid, the vine is warmer and rough, adding a woodsy scent. Where the flowers kiss, they leave drops of honey behind. The vine slips between the cheeks of his arse, teasing Draco as his hips move, cock thrusting into the sticky grasp of the magical hand.

He looks across and sees Lily Luna, small breasts tightly bound, nipples large and erect. There are stripes across her skin where the vine has lashed her, and the honey shines in the light. Draco licks his lips, imagining licking it from her skin until she screams, begging for more.

The vine fucks her wetly, sliding in and out between her legs, a single flower latched on to her clit and suckling as she is fucked. Her cries have become low, hoarse, mewling and desperate. Her hips rock, and as Draco watches, her body bows, tensing as she screams through her release.

When it is done, she hangs there against the tree, body limp, breath rough and low.

Something presses against Draco’s tight, puckered hole, and he groans. His gaze drops to Neville who is no longer working with the plants. His gaze is fixed on Draco for a long moment before he stands and goes to Lily Luna.

Neville helps her down, cradling her and kissing her, summoning a blanket to wrap her in with a warming charm before he settles her down. He picks up the first magical hand and carries it to Draco, deliberation in his step.

As Neville approaches, the hand on his prick lets go, moving. Neville releases the second hand and it scrabbles up Draco’s leg, until both are on his arse. Cold, slick fingers pry his arse cheeks apart, holding him open for the tentacle that pushes inside.

 _Fuck_. Draco would say it, but the words are muffled around the makeshift gag. He looks down; he has been bound against the tree at the perfect height. Neville stands before him and nuzzles his thick prick, opening his mouth to let Draco slip inside.

The contrast is amazing. Cold hands holding him open, the rough vine thrusting into him, and Neville’s warm wet mouth. Draco’s hips jerk, and he aches to come but he can’t, his prick and balls are bound too tightly. And Neville is slow and methodical, determined to drive him mad the way his tongue slides up the underside of Draco’s prick, teasing him with the touch.

A finger joins the vine, pushing into his arse, filling him even more. Cold and warm, slick and rough. The vine goes deep but the magical thumb stretches him, opening him as Draco feels it expand within him. He groans, desperate. Hips roll but are barely able to move. He wants to be deep in Neville’s throat and spill.

He cries out around the gag, words garbled, begging for something, _anything_. Begging for release. When Neville’s mouth takes one ball in and sucks on it, while a magical hand cradles the other just a little too tight, Draco jerks in the bonds. 

Neville swallows him again as the vines release his prick and balls. Draco pumps his hips once before losing control, spilling bitter fluid into Neville’s throat.

He is drained when it is done. The vine withdraws, but the hands stay on him, touching him as Neville does, their oddly metallic skin in sharp contrast to Neville’s warm strokes. “Merlin,” Draco breathes when his mouth is released. “That isn’t what I had in mind when I bought those hands.”

“Isn’t it?” The vines that bind Draco to the tree release him into Neville’s waiting arms, and he is drawn in for a kiss. Neville holds him up as they stand there, forehead to forehead. “I’ve my hands full with the two of you,” Neville murmurs. “I thought perhaps you were trying to give me some help.”

A sound from the other side of the garden claims their attention, and Neville helps Draco walk across to join Lily Luna. They all snuggle under the blanket together, managing to get Neville into the middle. Lily Luna sighs softly as she snuggles in close, too worn out to keep playing.

“Maybe I’m the one who needs a hand with you now,” Draco says softly. “I can summon them.”

Neville glances at Lily, then looks back to Draco, a slow smile starting. “I don’t need anything but you right now, now that you’ve been opened properly for me. You’ll just have to be creative, so you don’t disturb our Lily.”

Draco can do that. For Neville, Draco can do anything, even as pleasantly worn out as he is.


End file.
